


30 chapters, 30 glasses of whiskey and 30 lost prophets

by thekingsparty



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Holding Hands, Kissing, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-02-04 11:00:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1776709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekingsparty/pseuds/thekingsparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 days OTP challenge from tumblr.<br/>All 30 days can be found here: http://fadedprophet.tumblr.com/challenge</p><p>Cute stuff ahead. XD</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Holding hands

**Author's Note:**

> This will have Dean/Chuck content. Cuddling, kissing, lovey-dovey stuff, crack, all kinds of drabbles.  
> Ficlet word count will wary from 600-800 I guess.

Chuck knew Dean didn’t do chick-flick moments. The prophet didn’t mind most days, but today had been bad. He’d woken in excruciating pain surging through his body and mind, his dreams worse than ever, showing him things he didn’t want to see ever again and then, Dean had told him he wouldn’t come over tonight. He knew hunts and Metatron were more important, especially after everything he’d done to Sam and their new prophet, Kevin and he understood all that, but he’d needed someone who wasn’t Bourbon or Scotch. Problem was, he didn’t have anybody else. Dean was the only one he could talk to, even if most of the time he didn’t even talk. They just sat together and…well, existed. Chuck liked that. He didn’t do being social good anyway, so being with Dean was perfect.

They’d been having their thing for a few months now, ever since the angels fell and Chuck was free again, on earth and more or less healthy. He still had his visions and now even more nightmares of what he’d experienced while he was locked up and only Dean could relate.

But Dean wasn’t here now, so Chuck had to cope. He could do that. Sighing softly, he made his way back into the kitchen to fetch himself another glass. He stared at the empty bottle for a moment, setting it down and rummaging through one of the upper cupboards to get a new one. Holding his glass tightly, hands only shaking a little after the alcohol had helped him calm already, the prophet made his way back to the couch, reaching for his notebook to continue writing some. He took up writing again right when he came but, but only for himself, so he could get all the info out of his head.

About half an hour later, he woke to a loud noise, as if something had just shattered, hissing and hiding behind the couch he’d fallen sleep on. It was dark. “Hello--?” he called out, voice shaky.

No answer.

“This is so not funny.” he whined, peeking up from behind the couch, heart beating out of his chest. Who’d come and kill him? He lived in a run-down house. The most expensive thing he had was an old MacBook, probably older than the person breaking in. He sneaked over to the light switch, taking a few deep breaths before switching it, gasping in surprise when the stranger suddenly appeared right in front of him, “Dean?”

“What the hell, Chuck? You gonnapoke my eyes out with that pen?” Dean grinned, pointing at the pen Chuck held tightly in his hand, holding it up just like a weapon.

“Uh…” Chuck gaped at the hunter, frowning slightly, “Why…. didn’t you say you wouldn’t come tonight?” he mumbled quietly, glancing away.

“Nah, Sammy’s sleeping, Cas is…well, Cas and I thought you might want some pizza?” he held the box of pizza up, smirking.

“I do.” Chuck smiled a little, slowly letting his arm back down, his grip around the pen loosening. “Thank you.” he nodded, taking the box and carrying it to the couch table and setting it down, quickly grabbing his MacBook to turn it off since he’d fallen asleep with it still on. “Want a drink?”

Dean looked around the room, not oblivious to the empty bottles that gave his kitchen counter a new design. “I’m pretty sure you had enough..” he raised a brow. “Take it easy, ‘right?” he chuckled, “Eat something first.” Dean knew he wasn’t one to talk when it came to drinking, but Chuck probably was the only person who drank more than him, which was admirable all on its own.

“Okay…” he gave a small nod, sighing softly.

When they’d both settled, he shifted a little closer, reaching out to grab a slice of pizza for himself and one for his .. lover? He didn’t even know what they were. He didn’t dare bring it up, since he didn’t know how exactly Dean defined “chick-flick moments” and he didn’t really want to scare him away with expecting too much.

Dean quickly munched down his slice, keeping his eyes on the other, watching him eat as well, “When’s the last time you left this place?” he spoke up again after a while.

“A week? Maybe two? I ran out of toilet paper.” he shrugged, sighing. “Why--?” the prophet gasped as he was pulled up and tugged along, only allowed to stop in front of the door to have Dean help him slip on his boots and a jacket, Dean’s, before he was pulled outside again, the hunter’s rough hand holding Chuck’s firmly. “Dean, wha--? Where are we going? I’m not wearing pants.” the prophet protested, though he didn’t even think about stopping.

“Out.” he shrugged, slowing down as soon as they were out of sight from Chuck’s place. “No wonder you’re goin’ all crazy, stayin' cooped up all day.” Dean explained.

“Uhm…okay.” he spoke quietly, looking at the other as they walked, fingers still entwined, Dean’s hand keeping him close.

“Rough day?”

“Not at all.”


	2. Day 2: Cuddling somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. This is chapter 2. Another cute drabble thing.

Chuck had never expected Dean to be the cuddling kind of guy.

In fact, the prophet had expected Dean to be the 'sex only then get out of my bed' kind of guy, but instead he woke to a pair of arms and legs curled around his body. Since Chuck was short and thinner than Dean, he could easily wrap all around him, keeping him close and warm and Chuck didn't mind in the slightest. He was scared out of his mind most of the time anyway. 

Dean was a hunter, he understood as much, but Chuck wasn't and being either on the road or in shady motel rooms didn't exactly help Chuck with his anxiety. Yes, he was the one who'd accepted to go with Dean and Sam, but mostly due to the fact that he did feel a little safer on the road with two hunters than in his house all alone. It was only logical as pretty much everybody was after him. He didn't want to be a prophet anymore, he really didn't, but Castiel had said there was only one way out and ... well, Chuck didn't want to die. 

So while the first few times had been Dean stumbling in drunk and of his rocker suddenly all over Chuck, it now was something.. mutual. Chuck honestly didn't know if they loved each other, he didn't even know if Dean still  _could_ love. He'd figured after everything that happened that Dean somehow had put up a barrier to just  _stop_ himself from loving someone who wasn't Sam. Chuck liked to believe he did, though. He liked being around Dean. He'd never admit it, but he always had. Sure, he'd scared him shitless right from the first time Sam and him showed up on his doorstep, but Dean... well, he'd always admired his strength and loyalty.

Therefore  _this_ was something he enjoyed. Chuck slipped his arms around Dean in return, nuzzling his chest as he curled closer to the other. Dean usually made sure to have them sleep in separate beds if they shared rooms with Sam, but this time they'd had a Queen and a King instead of the three Queens, so Dean had rather hopped into bed with him than sleep with his brother or let his brother sleep with Chuck in bed.  _Jealousy?_  Nah, Chuck shouldn't let himself hope. 

Legs entwined, Chuck soon fell asleep again, breathing slow and calm despite the terror that usually reigned his mind. Another thing Dean did. He kept the nightmares and visions away. It was a miracle. The prophet hadn't slept that peacefully in decades. Before the visions, he'd had nightmares and after the visions he had nightmares of what he'd seen and what he dreamt would happen to him if one of the demons or angels got their hands on him again, but with Dean, nothing. He just slept the whole night long and so did Dean. It was... ridiculous, even, how two broken souls could be bandaid to one another. 

"Dean! Chuck! We need to-- oh God what the hell are you doing?" Sam stumbled into the room, looking at the two in horror. 

Chuck froze right this moment and tried to hide behind Dean as best as he could, even when the other jolted awake. 

"What the hell, Sam? Trying to sleep." He growled, glaring at the intruder until he realized there was a prophet curled around him just as much as he was curled around him. "Ah." 

"Yes, Dean?" Sam made a face, but shrugged and closed the door behind him before he sat down by the small table to their right. "So uh, do I need to know about anything?"

"Nah. Happens when you're sleepin' in the same bed with someone else." Dean chuckled and slowly unwound from the smaller person to sit up on bed and stretch. 

Chuck tried to hide the surging pain in his heart as best as he could as the other pulled away and he glanced at Sam to quickly nod his agreement to everything that had been said. There was no sense in trying to disagree. Dean called the shots and when he didn't want Sam to know...or well, if he didn't want there to be anything.. who was he to disagree? 

* * *

Later that day, when Sam was out grabbing dinner, Dean pulled a short and pouting prophet up and into his arms and they spent the next twenty minutes just... cuddling quietly on the couch until Dean heard Baby's rumble outside of the room. 

 


	3. Day3: Watching a movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3. This one's even on time. XD Movieee time.

Alone time with Dean was hard to get. Sam was always with them and when he wasn't, they usually only had a few minutes, half an hour, tops.

They never had enough time to actually...  _talk_. He didn't know how Dean felt about him, he didn't know whether he just used him as an escape or use the fact he could actually rest when Chuck was there and well, with him... he didn't need to pick up women at bars. Chuck was the easy way out. The easy... alternative. He didn't really like it but he could just pretend and so long as Dean didn't deny there was something going on, Chuck wouldn't bring it up. 

He was more than surprised to find Dean on the couch after his shower and even more surprised when he smelled microwave popcorn and there were blankets draped all over the ouch. 

"Um."

"Get dressed."

Not exactly what Chuck yearned to hear, but still better than  _Get out_. So, he grabbed a pair of clean boxers and a shirt, a pair of sweats and socks and moved to stand in front of the couch, eyes trained on the floor and shuffling his feet. 

"You gonna keep standin' there?"

"I... don't know."

Chuck glanced around the room, brows pulled together. "Where... where's Sam?"

"Out. He's doing research in the local library. We got hours."

"Oh." The prophet gave a small nod and slowly and clumsily climbed onto the couch to first sit there, keeping his distance and after a moment of ...well, considering the situation they were in, he curled up against the other's side. They didn't have much time like that, so he intended to use today as best as he could. "Sure he's gonna be gone?" Chuck didn't want to be kicked off the couch. Again.

"Yeah. We got popcorn and a movie. Rented one while you were takin' that shower." He grinned and wrapped an arm around the shorter male.  "It's supposed to be good." At least the guy at the rental store told him it would be. Dean hadn't really kept up to date with newer movies, so he would've been helpless without some assistance. 

"Sounds great." Chuck smiled and reached for the bowl of popcorn to balance it on Dean's legs, the blankets wrapped around him --he always got cold, especially when there was no alcohol pumping through his veins and he had promised Dean to tone it down-- and he didn't even need a movie for today to be perfect. Just being like this was more than Chuck ever wanted in life. It might sound strange to others, but Chuck grew up to be a lonely child, an even lonelier teen and the loneliest adult you could imagine, so just.. not being on his own was a big step. An improvement. He wouldn't change that for the world. 

"Awesome." Dean chuckled and he set the remote aside after he'd pressed play and grabbed a handful of popcorn to chew on while they watched the intro. He really hoped he hadn't been handed some cheesy romance novel crap. He might just be cuddling with another man, but he still didn't do chick-flick moments and the cuddling.. well, that was something he owed after basically kicking Chuck in front of the bus the last time Sam caught them. He knew Chuck was insecure, he wasn't  _that_ stupid, but it was  _Sam_. Sam wasn't supposed to know. Not.. ever. 

Chuck didn't care about the movie. He just held onto Dean as tightly as he could and breathed in the scent of...  _Dean_. (Probably his aftershave, but to Chuck it was the scent he would always connect Dean to.) He kept munching on popcorn, every now and then, he'd steal some from the other or comment on how 60% of the popcorn Dean intended to eat landed either on the floor or his crotch. "You're eating like a pig." The prophet chuckled. 

"Shut up. Watch the movie." Dean grumbled and quickly picked up the popcorn that laid on his chest and the couch. Well, popcorn always was messy when eaten by Dean Winchester. John had been the same. Another thing Dean and John shared. God, he missed him. 

"Sorry." Chuck grumbled quietly and munched on his popcorn instead, his heart beating a little faster as they'd actually managed an hour without  _anybody_ (no phone, no email, no Sam, no demon, no case) to interrupt them. Today was a good day. 

The movie  _was_ a chick-flick drenched, sappy romantic novel crap  _thing_... as Dean had called it, but they still watched it till the end and after that, they just turned don the television to relax, only neither of the two realized they were happy and tired and would fall asleep on the couch shorty after the first series of ads. Dean had Chuck in his arms, one of the prophet's legs had replaced the popcorn bowl, one of both their arms had entwined hands and Chuck would end up drooling against Dean's chest only fully asleep while Dean's head rested on the shorter male's head. 

When Sam came home, he'd been about to speak up, but then he saw the two and couldn't help a small smile.  _Happens when two people sleep in the same bed_ , mhm. Dean that idiot. So he hadn't imagined the look of hurt on the prophet's face that moment. Well, Dean didn't want to admit it? Fine. Sam grabbed his phone and took a picture of the two before he sat down on his bed to reread the research he'd copied in the library, chuckling quietly to himself when either of the two would mumble the other's name in their sleep. 


	4. Day 4: On a date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There we gooo! Next one.

So, Dean turned out to also not be the dating-kind-of-guy. 

It shouldn't really be a surprise to Chuck (he wasn't better, that wasn't it), but with Dean being well,  _Dean Winchester_ , he'd imagined to be swept off his feet. He was, but only to end up in bed. Another thing he really didn't mind, but it raised the question:  _How on earth did Dean Winchester keep girlfriends?_  

The first time he told Chuck they'd go out (he'd never dare use the description  _date_ to not raise any chance of a chick-flick moment happening), Dean had taken him to the closest diner. They ate and they talked, they went back to the motel room and Dean pushed him down on the bed. The second time they had some sort of da--free time, Dean took him to a bar and they both got hammered, went home and Dean pushed him down on the bed. Memories Chuck would treasure until he died and probably even after, but.. he couldn't remember ever being taken on a date.

A real date. Dressing up nicely, dinner, a movie, walking in the park, stargazing... things like that (every single one). 

Though with Dean? Now hoping for such a thing was feeble. Chuck should know. All the more reason he wrote it down instead. Every single detail and since he'd been writing his novel anyway, he could just add it in. Nothing wrong with that, was it? Nope. His novel, his rules. Yep. So long as Dean never read it.

**He did read it later that day.**

Chuck had fallen asleep at the computer, drooling all over the keyboard and Dean being the nice guy he was had just tried to clean up and more accidentally than not glanced at Chuck's research and then when he'd moved Chuck to sleep on the couch, he'd started reading the notes.....the chapter... the whole thing and when Chuck woke, Dean had just finished taking a shower and he stomped into the room, all towel-and-nothing-else-like. 

"C'mon, get up. Your turn." 

"My.. turn?"

"Yeah."

"With... what?"

"Shower. Get dressed. We're going out tonight."

"We're.... why?"

"Don't talk, just get goin'."

Chuck stretched and stood, scratching at the back of his head. "I'm.. I'm gonna go. I'll be quick."

"Sure." Dean hummed around his toothbrush. 

The Prophet strolled into the bathroom and left the door open since Dean and him, well, they'd seen each other naked before and he needed the sink sooner or later. He undressed and slipped into the shower, the hot water soaking his body and hair within seconds. Chuck sighed softly and washed himself thoroughly. Hair wet and dripping, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist before stepping outside to get dressed. 

Right next to the bed they shared, Chuck found Dean in jeans and a shirt, no flannel to be seen. "Dress up nicely." ([Click me](http://25.media.tumblr.com/5ad4bad5685c3525e9bdfc0793049802/tumblr_n2iug9fJEk1qdfrfbo2_1280.png) to see Dean)

"Nice..ly?"

"Mhm." He nodded and pulled on his boots before he disappeared in the bathroom again.

The shorter male gave a small nod and dressed up in the finest pair of jeans he owned and a plain white suit shirt. He added a black tie, but kept it loose, so it didn't look too weird without a suit jacket. He'd had his hair cut recently, so the locks usually didn't look too messy when they were brushed and dry. 

"Lookin' good." Dean chuckled. 

"Thanks." The Prophet shuffled. "Where.. where are we gonna go?"

"Dinner." Dean had found a nice restaurant relatively close. Italian. Chuck liked Italian food, right? Probably. Hopefully.

"Oh." Chuck gave a nod and stopped to stand in front of the other. "This.. okay?" ([Click me](https://31.media.tumblr.com/302ca4ffbfb503677d6eed7537c05bec/tumblr_nbg4eo1l8W1qa0bk1o1_500.jpg) to see Chuck)

Dean nodded and patted the other on the back, "You're good. Let's go." He held open the door and closed it again when Chuck had stepped outside. The walk to the Impala was short and neither of them talked. Dean really hoped he wasn't making a fool of himself with this and Chuck.. he was just nervous, as usual. When the other stopped the car in front of a small restaurant, Chuck couldn't help but blush. He'd thought about something like that not even a day ago. Hmm. They were sat at a small table for two in the back of the restaurant and Dean made it so they couldn't be seen by other customers. 

Chuck felt his heart throb with nervousness, hands shaky and palms sweaty. What happened? Would Dean kick him out now? Was that it?

"Chuck, chill. We're just having dinner." 

They both ordered food and Dean got them whiskey and they just talked until the waiter returned. Chuck never realized that even though they spent a lot of time together, they never really  _talked_.

The food was amazing and Chuck couldn't stop smiling when Dean mentioned they'd go see a movie afterwards until he realized one thing.  **Novel**.

"Y-you.... you read it?" 

"Mh."

Oh crap. This was so embarrassing. The writer whined softly and hid his head in his hands.

"Hey listen, you're supposed to tell me stuff like that." Then he wouldn't have to read Chuck's book to find out. 

"But..."

"I can't know stuff like that." Chuck knew he wasn't exactly the relationship type, didn't he? Hell, he knew about  _all_ his life. 

"We don't have to." He shook his head. "I.." He laughed nervously, "No chick-flick moments, right?" Dean's motto. Chuck knew all too well.

"Eatin' in a restaurant and watchin' a movie doesn't have to be  _girly_." Dean shrugged. Even if.... if it made the other happy, why wouldn't he try? It was weird, but Chuck... Chuck helped Dean more than he could ever admit. It wasn't just the fact he could sleep multiple hours in a row without nightmares and without getting drunk, or the fact he could just have sex the second he felt like it. It was.. Chuck was a nice guy and he made Dean feel good. Every smile he got out of the shorter guy was.. it was warm and fuzzy and he liked it. 

When they were done eating, Dean paid and took Chuck to the theatre in which they watched some old action movie, though neither of the two actually paid attention all that much. Chuck was curled up against Dean's side, his arm slipped around Dean's and he just couldn't stop grinning even while they were kissing and touching, stroking and sighing. 

Dean had Sam pick up the Impala, so he and Chuck had to walk home. The sun was setting as they walked and they stopped at a small shop to get ice cream and when they reached the motel room again, the stars were basically leading their way back inside and Chuck found the room empty. "Where's Sam?" He glanced up at the other. 

"Out." He said and pulled Chuck over to the bed. "Told him to do research and go watch a movie." He murmured as he nuzzled the shorter man's neck, slowly pushing him down onto the mattress. "Is this something you do after a date... or do you wanna wait?"

"What? Oh, no, I mean, yes...it's.. it's fine. Today was... perfect."

Dean chuckled quietly and kissed the other again. "You know naming your main character's boyfriend  _Sean_ isn't exactly.. clever?"

"Shut up." Chuck blushed, grumbling quietly. 

"And kiss you?"

"Mhm." 

"I like the sound of that." 

Maybe ... just maybe... Chuck would fall asleep in front of his computer more often now.


	5. Day 5: Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And there we go again. Oooh. A little late, but I was super busy.

Kisses with Dean were the best kisses Chuck could ever imagine. 

And definitely not because he'd been lusting after the hunter ever since he first burst into his house and threatened to kill him. No...

Partially. Partially, because  _wow_ Dean Winchester knew how to kiss and yet he claimed it was the Crossroads Demons who knew how to kiss properly. Chuck severely doubted there could be anything more mouth-watering, anything more....  _more_. 

He was addicted. 

If he could, he'd cling to the hunter all day long, arms and legs wrapped around him and lips pressed against the other male's rough ones. Even his lips were rough. They were soft in their own way, full and perfect, but nevertheless rough. Chuck felt all tingly just thinking about them and when Dean returned right then, clothes bloody and dirty, Chuck couldn't help a soft whine. Another sight he'd grown weak to. "Are you..are you hurt?"

"Nah, I'm all good." 

Chuck smiled softly and waited a little longer to see if Sam was coming in after him, but he..wasn't. "Where's... is Sam alright?"

"Yeah, he's grabbin' food. Llamia got me first. Grilled it and it exploded all over  _me._ He's fine." Dean grunted, giving a shrug.

The Prophet stood behind his hunter right away and pulled off his jacket to let it flop down to the floor, then he swiftly moved to his front to pop button after button of his flannel and gently push it off his shoulders as well. He helped Dean with his tee shirt and unbuckled his belt to push down his jeans the second he'd kicked off his shoes. 

"Thanks Chuck." A soft smile that had Chuck melt right away before he leaned in to peck him on the lips.

"'Welcome." The shorter male hummed and his fingers curled around the hunter's hand, tugging him along to the bathroom where he pushed him inside as gently and forcefully at the same time as he could. "I'll take care of your.. uh, your clothes." He nodded before slipping outside the room. He quickly hung up the leather jacket as he knew Dean would never allow throwing it away, blood, intestines... there couldn't be enough bad on it to be enough reason to get rid of it. So, cleaning it is all he could do. The flannel didn't look too bad, the shirt was almost clean, so he grabbed both and stuffed the pieces of clothing into Dean's duffel to join the other dirty clothes. They needed to stop at a laundromat at some point. Chuck was running low as well. The jeans. He shook his head and quickly tossed them. There were cuts and crusted stains, no way they'd get that clean and they weren't low on money, so new jeans it'd be. 

He was about to see how well he could clean up Dean's leather jacket when the other stepped out of the bathroom and got dressed before his eyes caught Chuck's staring. The Prophet blushed and turned around, quickly fumbling with the jacket and the washcloth he'd drenched in soap to try and rub out the drying stains and he froze when a pair of strong, tanned arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him back against a very firm chest. "Dean..." 

"You know you can  _touch_ so long as Sam isn't here, don't you?"

"Yes.."

"Then why..." He nipped at the shorter male's neck, "Do I catch you starin' at me instead?"

Chuck whined softly, giving a small shrug. He liked looking at Dean. Was that bad? "There's not enough time."

"For?"

"More than...  _this_."

"You could've joined me'n the bathroom."

The Prophet turned in the other's arms, his own moved to lock behind the hunter's neck and he hummed happily as he snuggled up against his chest. God, he loved doing that. Just.. being close. 

"Next time, then." Dean chuckled, nudging the other's chin up, so he could look at him in the eyes (something that happened far too rarely because Chuck had the habit to not look up from the floor) and he pressed his lips against the other's, pulling him in a little closer as they kissed. He knew Chuck needed proximity more than anybody else and so long as they were alone, he didn't mind giving it to him. Eyes closed when he pressed Chuck up against the wall, kissing him a little more passionately with his tongue flicking over the other's lips, demanding access and when it was granted, he rumbled possessively as he claimed Chuck's lips and mouth as his own. 

 _Possessiveness._  

Something Dean had only really developed since he'd been with Chuck. He didn't just feel protective of him, he felt more. Only  _Dean Winchester_ would never admit to such a thing. He wasn't a love sick puppy or a girl, giggling because she was oh so in love. Nah. They were good they way things were now. Chuck knew he was... special to Dean and Dean showed him as best as he could without risking too much. 

Chuck melted against the other's chest, soft and quiet gasps and moans were all that could be heard in the otherwise silent motel room until there was that roaring purr the Prophet knew all too well by now. He whined softly, a broken noise in the back of his throat, smiling softly when Dean pulled away to glance at the door. They shared a little, sly smile and Chuck went back to cleaning Dean's jacket while Dean got dressed properly and made sure the table was free of Sam's research so they could eat. 


	6. Day 6: On the desk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, desks can be used for many things. Some are safe for children, some... aren't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this took ages. Sorry guys, the hiatus killed muse. This is NSFW.

Chuck had never cared less about losing the edited version of his latest chapter than he did right now. 

Dean had stormed into the room they'd been holed up at for a little over a week, Sam was out doing research and Dean wasn't supposed to be back until dinner, but there he was, looking at him as if ... as if he'd done something to deserve this when all that Chuck did was stay inside the motel room, staying inside the salt circle so Dean didn't have to worry about him while he was dealing with monsters and demons and whatever else went bump in the night. 

And yet, here he was, stomping towards him, looking like he always did.  _Fantastic_. Except for that look on his face and if Chuck had to guess it was either fury or... lust. He really hoped for the latter as it'd been a while since Sam had left them alone for longer than half an hour and Chuck was slowly but surely going insane. Ever since Dean and him had... well,  _started_ their little thing, he'd grown used to sex and kissing and all that so when they left the bunker to go hunt with Sam, things had changed and Chuck was desperate. 

So desperate that instead of being scared, he actually  _moaned_ when he was pushed back against the desk he'd taken as his. His laptop was set down on the coffee table but his printed pages with comments and edits were spread all over the desk, on which he now found himself pressed back on,  _lusty_ hunter on top.

"D-dean....?" Was he okay? "Did... did something happen?"

"Nah."

"Dean?"

"Less talkin'." Dean growled, burying his nose in the Prophet's neck, taking him in, nipping and nibbling at the skin between his ear and neck. 

"N-ah, Dean, wait." He really didn't want him to, but he was worried and worry outweighed desperation. 

"What?" The hunter hissed, pulling away to glare at the shorter male underneath him. 

"I...I uh, are you... you're not... cursed..are you?" Chuck knew there were curses like that. He'd.. read about them.. somewhere... he thought. Oh God, did he mix up reality and Becky's goddamn fan fiction? No....maybe? 

Dean stared at the other, silent for the moment, just staring at him before he broke out in laughter. " _Really?"_  

"I couldn't know, c-could I?" Chuck whined, blushing bright red.

"So, I can't want to have sex unless... I'm under a spell, is that it?" He grinned. 

"Shut up." The Prophet glanced away and mumbled, pouting.

"Aw, don't say that. You love my voice." Dean purred and caught the other's lips in a kiss, pushing him back up on the desk to hover over him properly with his hands keeping him up and off the writer. "You're readin' too much fan fiction." The hunter husked, leaning down again to suck a prominent little mark to the front of his throat, pulling away with a grin. 

"You fight demons and the Devil and werewolves on a daily basis, but  _I_ read too much fan fiction?" Chuck hissed, nails digging into the other's skin, "Careful.. or Sam will see." He whisper-moaned, baring his neck for him anyway. He loved Dean's urge to mark him. He'd never taken the other for a possessive partner since Dean had slept with more women than.... well, anybody else he'd ever seen, but it seemed that now that they had some sort of exclusive...thing.. going on, he wanted to make sure Chuck didn't go sleeping around. Hah. As if. 

"Werewolves and the Devil can be stabbed. A  **sex curse?** That's just ... weird." A shrug and Dean was back on Chuck's neck, sucking and licking at the skin, up to his jaw, stubble scratching against stubble until he found a pair of lips to latch onto, pushing Chuck's shirt up with broad, rough palms brushing up and around. Shirt off, dismissed, Dean attached to the Prophet's chest.

"You looked  _horny_ , alright?" The shorter male gasped, hands in the hunter's hair, tugging and petting at the same time, holding onto him as if he'd walk away if he didn't. Chuck would always fear Dean tiring of him. He'd never understand how he could deem him worthy of staying by his side. But he would enjoy it for as long as he'd allow it. "Really horny."

"I  _am_." Dean husked, chuckling against the other's skin. "Or do you want me to stop?" Fingers trailed down the other's torso to the waistband of his jeans (Dean had made it a rule to be properly dressed in their motel room, since a) Sam, b) Dean enjoyed undressing the other) and the buckle of his belt which, by now, was quite unnecessary. Chuck had gained weight ever since they got together. Dean made sure he ate properly, so he wasn't a walking stick of bones and skin anymore. Now, he was... perfectly thin. Yes. 

 "N-no!" Chuck whined softly, arching up and into the other's touch, shuffling on the desk impatiently. "Don't stop,  _please_." He pulled himself up some on the desk as he had writhed himself almost off it. Papers rustled when he kicked and flailed them off it and he cupped the other's face, forcing him to look up. "I...." He bit his lip and shook his head, smiling shyly. "You're..still dressed." He grumbled and pulled him up for a kiss. He tugged at his flannel, pushing it off his shoulders and pulling his shirt over his head. A bunch of trembling fingers trailed up the hunter's broad chest, up up up to his neck for him to wrap around and press his own lips to Dean's.

"I won't." Of course he wouldn't. He couldn't. Not when his little Prophet begged for him so beautifully. Sprawled all over that desk, ready and waiting for him. He trusted him and Dean didn't know how he'd earned that trust. He'd done nothing but disappoint him and yet, he put his  _life_ and body in his hands. His  _heart_. Something that precious, Dean felt flustered just thinking about it. Chuck hadn't officially told him, but Dean could  **see**. He wasn't that dumb. Shirt off and gone, he slipped his own hands into Chuck's hair, tugging at his short curls and holding him in place so he could kiss him. "Bed?"

"Occupied." Chuck whispered against the other's lips, nodding past them. Both beds were full of clothes and bags, guns and... things Chuck didn't know all that much about. Hunter stuff. "Here's fine." He smiled and fumbled with his belt and the button of his jeans. "Help?"

Dean glanced over his shoulder, giving a nod. True. Sam would be back until they had managed to clear one of the beds. "'Course." He grinned, pulling his jeans off the other's wiggling hips. "Someone's havin' a good time?" He rumbled, arching a brow before he let a palm press up against the subtle tent in Chuck's boxers, rubbing in slow, slow circles. 

"Of course." Chuck mumbled, pulling himself up on the table to sit properly. He frowned slightly when Dean stood and grabbed at his shoulder to turn him around so his belly was pressed up against papers and pencils. And wood. "Dean..." A whispered little noise. He was laying partly on the desk, one leg reaching the floor, one kind-of ~~too short~~ dangling in the air. 

"Shh." Dean hummed softly, stepping back to look at the man sprawled all over that desk for him, wanting and  _waiting_. Eager and desperate. "Perfect." A low rumble in his throat and against the other's back as he leaned down to trail kisses along his spine and to the small of his back, pulling his boxers down in a quick, merciless motion. He stood, glancing around aimlessly. 

"Jeans pocket."

Then he moved again and found the Prophet's discarded jeans, pulling a small bottle of lube from his back pocket and then he kneeled behind him again, rough palms grabbing at the shorter male's pale ass cheeks, squeezing and pulling them apart. He pushed at one of the other's legs, pushed it to bend and rest on the table, opening his Prophet up for him to see. Lube squeezed between his cheeks, he spread it around Chuck's hole with his index finger, teasing at the rim while he pressed butterfly kisses to one of his butt cheeks. The other hand found the Writer's dick and wrapped around it to help distract him when he urged his finger inside. "Breathe."

And Chuck did. Long, deep and slightly shuddery breaths. He wasn't exactly new to this anymore. Dean..had a healthy appetite. Even after all that happened. Maybe  _because_ of what happened and maybe  _because_ they could make each other feel better. That probably explained the  _why,_ though honestly, Chuck didn't mind in the slightest. "I'm fine... Dean, I can.. I can take more." And that earned him another finger, scissoring him open hastily. They couldn't take all day or Sam would run in on them. The third always made him whimper. Every single time. He pawed at the table, turning his head to glance at the other even if he could only catch glimpses from when he wasn't hidden behind his own ass. He wiggled impatiently, breaths coming in small pants, "Please Dean,  _please_... **fuck me**." More lube. Chuck hissed against the cold.

"I will." Dean husked against the nape of his neck, pressed up against him now and nuzzling at the back of his neck. "Oh, I will." The hunter chuckled, a hand in-between them to line himself up with his partner's hole, slowly pressing himself inside. He went slow, inch by inch, but he didn't halt until he was buried deep within his little Prophet,  _right to the hilt_. "Chuck."

 "Love you..."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow... long drabble. Not sorry. xD

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
